


One word about size, and you'll regret it

by keerawa



Category: Baldur's Gate
Genre: Gen, Halflings, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 07:55:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5489489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keerawa/pseuds/keerawa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Admittedly, Mazzy should have thought this through a bit better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One word about size, and you'll regret it

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Andraste](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andraste/gifts).



"Let me go!"  Mazzy yelled at the hell-spawned, winged beast that had snatched her up in the midst of battle.

It swooped down into the depths of the chasm, chittering at her.  "Feed you to the nestlings, yes, tasty little morsel."

"Little?!?" Mazzy twisted around and hacked at it blindly.  Her sword found the joint of its wing.  The creature shrieked, lost control, and slammed into a rock wall.  Mazzy found herself sliding down the wall, grasping frantically at rocks, vines, anything to slow her descent, until she smashed into the hard surface below.

She was badly wounded.   Mazzy controlled a whimper of pain and prayed to Arvoreen for healing.  Her goddess's grace spread slowly through her body.  Mazzy opened her eyes and looked around.  Her infravision revealed rough stone walls, a stone floor spattered with her own blood, her sword, and the cooling body of the creature that had dropped her here. 

She closed her eyes and listened.  Dripping water and the oh-so distant sound of battle from far above.  Mazzy heard a crash of metal and the crack of a lightning bolt.  Then all was silent.

"Hello?"  Mazzy tried shouting.  "Trish?  Imoen?  Valygar?  Can you hear me?"  The sound echoed back dizzyingly.  There was no reply. 

Mazzy began grimly stripping out of her armor, abandoning it on the ground.  Even if her companions had heard her call for assistance, what could they do?  The 50 feet of rope they carried would make little difference.  Mazzy estimated she was at least 500 feet below the cavern they had been exploring.  She sheathed her sword and ensured that her bow and quiver were secured on her back.

"Arvoreen guide me," she prayed, wishing for a moment that she possessed the skills of the typical halfling. Rusty from Trademeet often boasted of the time he scaled a wizard's tower made of sheer glass.  Mazzy spotted what looked like a decent set of hand and footholds extending as far as she could see up the rock wall, and began to climb, muttering "Three points of contact.  Three points of contact.  Don't look down. Goddess, I hate heights."


End file.
